


Bad Choices

by lillyluna



Series: After London [2]
Category: Phlochte - Fandom, Swimming RPF
Genre: After DUI, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bad Decisions, Break Up, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hard Time, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, More real life than I usually write, Not Talan/Oliver, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Relationship(s), Real Life, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 13:36:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2813879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillyluna/pseuds/lillyluna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his court hearing Michael waits for Ryan to call. </p><p>Totally unrelated to any kid fic universe I have created.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Choices

**Author's Note:**

> This is truer to life than I usually write. It's roughly in the same universe as Mess Around... but I didn't check to make sure all the facts added up.
> 
> I get not everyone agrees. I get this is a touchy subject but I mostly wrote this for myself. It's dialogue heavy and includes Devon as the voice of reason because Devon is my favourite. 
> 
> This isn't true. Clearly. 
> 
> Play nice. 
> 
> I'm sorry this isn't Tides.

Michael gets home from court and waits. 

He watches his family hover around him and his condo. His mom frowns at the general mess of the place and empties his dishwasher. His sisters talk about Christmas and kids. His girlfriend cuts into their conversation and ends up talking about yoga with Hilary after Whitney leaves to go pick up her kids from school. 

No one has said anything. No one has talked about his sentencing or the year of jail he just avoided doing. No one talks about rehab and Alcoholics Anonymous. No one talks about the dozens of bottles of wine still in his house. 

They’d stood as a united front walking into the courthouse, all united as he pleaded guilty to driving drunk. No one had said anything about how ridiculous it was to be supporting him. No one had said anything about how nothing in his life had seemed to change. No one had said anything about how his PR Company was running their lives. 

No one had said anything about the presence of a girl they’d known nothing about since their initial breakup. 

His family and his girlfriend linger. Hilary makes a vegan dinner that his girlfriend raves about but that he doesn’t touch. 

He understands that his girlfriend is probably lingering hoping for an invitation to sleep over. Hoping that this is more than a PR stunt, that there might be something there. She has a hotel room nearby and Michael has no intention of letting her stay over. 

Eventually his mother runs out of things to clean and fix and straighten and Hilary runs out of yoga stories and juicing recipes to share. They head home and his girlfriend lingers for another half hour before he finally offers to call her a cab. It’s the same guy he always uses, the guy who’d taken the other woman home too. 

Once he’s alone, he keeps waiting. 

He makes sure his phone is charged, throws the vegan food Hilary had wrapped up into the trash can and turns on his play station. He desperately wants a beer but forces himself to think of something else. 

He knows there’s no time difference between Charlotte and Baltimore. He knows that there’s no universe in which Ryan hasn’t heard about his court hearing. He sees that Ryan has read his text messages. He opens their conversation back up and stares at the last message Ryan had sent. 

“Call you later.” 

Now it’s later and Ryan isn’t calling. 

Michael wishes he didn’t give a shit but he does. He’s bored and restless. He can’t go out, can’t leave his house alone because he can’t drive. He can’t walk through his neighbourhood because he’s in the news and people are waiting to see him fuck up. The video of his drunken trek through Baltimore played on the news and he assumes people are angry. He’s stuck in his house and he’s bored and lonely. 

His cell phone rings two hours later, it’s a face time call, when he answers his screen fills with a shot of hardwood floor and gold sneakers. 

He laughs. 

“Wrong camera Doggy.” He calls out, settling back on his couch, “Just switch it around.” 

Ryan’s fingers cover up the camera for a second before he flips the phone around. He takes them off just in time for Michael to catch a glimpse of Devon sitting beside Ryan. 

“Hey DC.” Michael speaks loudly, “Show Ry how to switch the view.” 

“I know how.” Ryan protests. 

The view of Ryan’s shoes is quickly replaced by Ryan’s face and Michael grins. Ryan’s phone is on his lap and when he looks down he has a double chin and it’s hilarious. 

“Hey.” Michael says laughing harder. “Took you forever I’ve been waiting for-” 

“You’re lucky dumbass.” Ryan shoots off not bothering with any expected pleasantries. 

“I still don’t get my license back.” Michael grumbles because Ryan is without a doubt one of the only people in his life he can be honest with, “Fucking gotta go to AA I don’t-” 

“Fuck you not dying.” Ryan answers. He moves the phone so Michael sees his face from above. His double chin disappears. “S’why you’re lucky. 

“He saw the video.” Devon fills in the blanks, “Of you in the tunnel.” 

“I didn’t hit anything.” Michael defends, “I was fine, I woulda made it-” 

“No.” Devon dismisses, “You’re a fucking dumbass.” 

“What he said.” Ryan agrees, “Dumbass.” 

Michael has no brothers but he gets that right now Ryan and Devon are treating him like one. 

“You speed all the time.” Michael defends himself, “You drive like shit.” 

“Yeah but I ain’t drunk.” Ryan rolls his eyes. “I don’t get shit face cuz I’m bored.” 

“No you fall down a buncha stairs and fuck up your knee.” Michael reminds him. 

“Not the same.” Devon calls out his ruling, “That was dumb too but he wasn’t gonna die. ” 

“Whatever.” Michael rolls his eyes at both of them. 

“Plus our dad fucked up his shit.” Devon remembers, “Yelled at him and like the whole floor heard nurses came in to see what was up. Anyone yell at you?” 

“My mom doesn’t really yell.” Michael groans, “She’s more like the- I’m disappointed in you thing. She cries, I feel bad and like-” 

“It work?” Devon asks. “Don’t look like it.” 

Michael is tired of being lectured by Devon when he can’t even look at him. 

“Dude.” Devon says again, “You can’t drink for two fucking years. Two fucking-” 

The phone drops back on Ryan’s lap and Michael sees Ryan’s arm swing towards Devon and hears Devon cry out. 

“Don’t be an asshole.” Ryan orders, “Say bye Mike.” 

Ryan picks up his phone and holds it straight in front of Devon’s clearly pissed off face. 

“Bye Dumbass.” Devon rolls his eyes at Michael. “Happy we ain’t gotta go see you in jail.” 

Michael ends up staring at Ryan’s shoes again. He watches Ryan walk away from the living room, across a black area rug and back onto the hardwood floor. He watches him open a door and the new room’s floor is slightly more cluttered than the rest. 

Ryan sits on his bed, leans against the headboard and holds the phone back up to his face. 

“Ok we’re alone.” Ryan finally talks, “Sorry ‘bout Devon.” 

“Whatever.” Michael shrugs, “He cares.” 

Now that they’re alone, Michael angles the camera of his phone lower and inches his sweat pants down an inch. He runs his hand across his stomach and glances up to watch Ryan stare at him. 

“Yo don’t get slutty.” Ryan warns, “We gotta like… talk and shit it’s not-” 

“Dude.” Michael groans, “I talked all day I don’t wanna like-” 

“You didn’t talk for shit.” Ryan guesses, “I know your fam they said nothing ‘bout what they thought. Your mom like said you didn’t do your laundry and your sister juiced a carrot and they went home. You didn’t go to jail they don’t-” 

“Hey.” Michael warns. 

“I wasn’t like doing nothing.” Ryan says and his voice goes a weird kind of quiet. “Today.” 

“My team said not to have too many people.” Michael says uncomfortable. 

“So you asked Ray Lewis to come?” Ryan laughs bitterly and it sounds unfamiliar, “Whatever.” 

“Ry-” Michael tries, “You know why-” 

“No.” Ryan argues, “I don’t. Miss California got to-” 

“She’s my-” Michael fights back.

“She ain’t.” Ryan interrupts him too, “I’m not dumb.”

Michael can’t keep looking at Ryan so he looks beyond his phone at the tv that’s still turned on to ESPN. 

“When d’we break up?” Ryan asks breaking the silence, “After Nats and Australia and all the stuff we said. You skip out my birthday and what? When d’we break up?” 

“You talked to TMZ.” Michael spills out. “You-”

“After a fucking DUI.” Ryan says angry. He hits his phone’s microphone with his finger to get Michael’s attention, “Has nothing to do with what I just said. You coulda died and what? I woulda found out ‘bout her at your funeral? Like wrote my speech and-” 

“I didn’t die.” Michael yells, “I didn’t hurt no one. Nothing happened. I woulda made it home I was fine fuck. Everyone is fucking all over my shit. I woulda made it home okay.”

“So you made it home.” Ryan hypothesizes, “You pass out in your stairs an the next day you wake up hungover as fuck an what? We a couple? Or you still cheating on me?” 

“Together Ry. All the time.” 

“Yeah?” Ryan asks. “What about-” 

“I don’t wanna talk about her.” Michael closes his eyes, “That was just-” 

“I’m tryna understand what happened.” Ryan rambles, “We’re at Nats and we’re happy and we go to Australia and we’re talking ‘bout doing it for real and being serious shit you wanted in Mesa. Then you don’t show up for my birthday, you go to Cali for her like two times. You’re fucking girls on Tinder and what? You have a shitty weekend with your fake girlfriend and you get home an try to kill yourself you try to-” 

“You date a bottle girl?” Michael reminds him, “Remember that?” 

“You didn’t show up.” Ryan says, “You went to a baby shower with her. I ain’t dumb Mike.” 

“I never said you were.” Michael yells, “I freaked out.” 

“She forgive you for cheating?” Ryan asks, “That why she got to go to court.” 

“She got to go because it looked good.” Michael admits, “I didn’t want her there.” 

“You didn’t want me there either.” Ryan fills in, “I woulda been there.” 

“Fuck.” Michael leans back against his couch, “I want a fucking drink.” 

“You can’t.” Ryan says but his voice is more caring than threatening, “Talk to me.” 

But Michael doesn’t. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to think about the current mess of his life. 

People had to have noticed at one point or other that he had a problem. No way did he go through years of drinking and bad choices without anyone being concerned. He tries to remember conversations when people had voiced their worry but all he comes up with are conversations where people had worried he was ruining his brand. 

People had always seemed more worried about Michael Phelps™ than about Mike. 

He remembers his first DUI and the pot incident and how all the speeches he’d been given had the same reoccurring thesis statement: “How will this affect your career”. He can’t remember anyone asking him if he was okay. No one had taken the time to ask if he, as a person, was doing all right. 

The answer would have been no. That outside of practice and competing and winning he had no idea how to work anything. He had no idea how to deal with his brain when he wasn’t over tired from swimming every day. How he had no idea how to make friends or how to keep them. No one wanted to hear how he spent time in the AT&T store and brought them coffee to have people to hang out with. 

No one wanted to hear that gold medals didn’t make a house less lonely. 

His friends had seen him drunk, his girlfriends had seen him drunk and fuck half of Baltimore at this point had seen him drunk. Bob had seen him hung over at practice and his family had seen him hung over at football games and weekend brunch. 

His friends had gotten in cars with him.

Michael remembers thinking he could get home. He remembers the sobering moment reality had taken over and he’d realized that a casino in the middle of suburban Baltimore wasn’t where he wanted to be at one in the morning. He remembers blinking a few times and deciding that he could get home. It wasn’t far and he could do it. He remembers wanting to go home. 

He remembers wanting Ryan because Ryan could always see through the bullshit. Ryan never needed to ask if he was okay because he always knew the truth. Ryan didn’t swallow fake stories. Ryan wouldn’t drink so he could drive them home. 

“Mike.” Ryan says again, “You don’t gotta drink you just gotta talk to me.” 

Michael doesn’t know how he can wipe tears away without Ryan seeing him do it and he realizes that he doesn’t care if Ryan does see them. He raises his head off the back of the couch and looks straight into Ryan’s eyes. 

“My bad for yelling.” Ryan apologizes, “Not a good day.” 

Michael shakes his head and wipes his eyes on the shoulder of his t-shirt. 

“Yo I can head over.” Ryan offers, “You can talk to Dev until I get there. He ain’t that bad, he won’t yell at you if I tell him to be nice.” 

The thought of Ryan forcing Devon to talk to him for over six hours is slightly hilarious. Michael knows though that Devon would do it without asking questions. That if Ryan said it was important Devon would do it right away. 

“You can’t.” Michael regretfully tells him, “I gotta like play out the script.” 

“I got cut right?” Ryan guesses, “Octagon cut me out.” 

Michael nods and watches as the reality of the situation washes over Ryan. 

“You fight for it?” Ryan asks. 

Michael shakes his head. 

“I’ll still come over.” Ryan says after a minute of silence, “You need me?” 

“You can’t.” Michael repeats. 

“You’re alone?” Ryan guesses, “D’you get rid of all the booze?” 

“No.” Michael admits, “It’s still there.” 

“Dude.” Ryan says, “That’s not-” 

Ryan gets it.

“Don’t hang up.” Michael requests, “I don’t wanna-” 

“I got like.” Ryan sighs, “Nothing left to say dude… You got a girl there-”

“She’s at a hotel.” Michael reassures, “We don’t like-” 

“She’s there.” Ryan reminds him. 

Ryan’s not usually too good with words but he’s always pretty easy to read and Michael can tell how hurt he is. It’s the first time they’ve actually talked since Australia and he gets that this is pretty much over. 

“You treated me like you treat random girls you fuck.” Ryan reproaches, “It’s never been like that. We’re best friends. I love you.” 

Michael can’t find the energy to make it better. Can’t think of a way to turn everything around and back track on plans he’d agreed to in order to work Ryan back into his life. He wants to be able to walk into Octagon and say that it’s over. That he’s not going to jail and he won’t drink but that the fake girlfriend needs to go home and disappear. That he wants Ryan. 

“Whatever.” Ryan dismisses when the minutes of silence make it clear Michael doesn’t have an answer, “We’re best friends. DC and I were gonna watch a movie. We got Mountain Dew.” 

“I got Coke.” Michael answers. 

“Watch with us.” Ryan offers, “Plug in your phone so it don’t die.” 

Michael fumbles around the couch cushions for his power plug while Ryan walks back down to the living room. 

“Mike’s watching with us.” Ryan tells Devon, “Move over.” 

“He’s on a phone.” Devon points out, “He don’t take up a whole couch cushion.” 

“Yeah well he gets one.” Ryan argues, “Move over.” 

“No.” Devon says through a mouthful of pizza, “This is dumb.” 

“Fine.” Ryan drops the phone on Devon, “He can sit in your lap, hold him up so he can see.” 

“Nah that’s you bro.” Devon throws the phone to Ryan, “Your date, you hold him.” 

Michael’s house is dark and quiet. He sits on his couch, closes his tv and watches The Neighbours on Ryan’s television through the screen of his iphone. Occasionally Ryan moves him around to make sure he’s still there. He drinks his coke and tries not to think about the alcohol that’s everywhere in his house. 

He sees glimpses of Devon on his screen and watches him fall asleep. When Devon’s been solidly snoring for five minutes he decides to speak up. 

“Ry.” He calls out to grab his attention, “Doggy.” 

Ryan turns the phone around and Michael sees that despite the comedy he’s still looking too serious. 

“D’you want me to turn it up?” Ryan asks. 

“No like.” Michael clumsily starts, “I was scared.” 

“Of court?” Ryan yawns, “Yeah I’d be scared too.”

“No.” Michael answers, “I mean yes I was but not that. Of you. I was scared of-” 

“Me?”

“No.” Michael says frustrated because he can’t get his brain to figure out a way to make thoughts into sentences that Ryan can understand, “Us. Doing it like official. Dating whatever. That. I was scared.” 

“That’s dumb.” Ryan answers, “It was gonna be easy.” 

Ryan turns Michael back around to watch the movie, essentially ending their conversation. Michael tries calling out for him again but Ryan either pretends not to hear him or is too entranced by Zac Efron to hear him. 

Michael had been afraid of being with Ryan for real. They hadn’t talked for two years after London and had started talking again in Arizona. They’d gotten back together like nothing had ever changed and at Nationals Michael had relished how easy it was to just be with Ryan. He’d forgotten how hard Ryan could make him laugh. 

Ryan got him and Ryan would have gotten that things weren’t okay. Now that the entire world knows things have gone to shit Michael is scared to go through everything without Ryan. He knows Ryan wouldn’t have left, that Ryan wouldn’t have made a vegan dinner. Ryan would have gotten all the alcohol out. Ryan would have kicked Octagon out. Ryan would have looked after him before looking after his image. 

The movie isn’t even half done when Ryan turns the phone towards his phone. 

“I’m tired.” Ryan notes yawning, “I’m going to bed.” 

“Come here.” Michael selfishly requests, “Please.” 

“Dude.” Ryan complains, “I offered.” 

“I can’t do this without you.” Michael admits, “I said dumb shit and I was an ass and I got lucky but I need you.” 

“Yeah you do.” Ryan agrees, “You do dumb shit without me. Really dumb shit.” 

“Come here.” Michael begs again, “Please.” 

Ryan yawns again and stretches. Michael gets a view of Devon’s knees. 

“My fam’s coming up for Christmas dude I can’t.” Ryan breaks the news, “I gotta get ready.” 

“Ok yeah.” Michael agrees nodding. 

“Come here.” Ryan offers instead, “Fly wherever’s closer I’ll come pick you up.”  
“Yeah.” Michael agrees quickly, “I can find something.” 

“I’ll stay with you ‘till you leave.” Ryan agrees, “Then I pick you up.” 

Michael nods and takes his iPad. He browses for flights and miraculously finds one leaving at nine thirty. He figures that if he packs nothing except his backpack he can make it. 

“I can leave in two hours.” He tells Ryan and can’t keep excitement out of his voice, “I’d be there at 11.” 

“Do it.” Ryan says through another yawn, “I’ll be there.” 

It’s impulsive, quickly planned and most of the things that usually gets Michael in trouble. He doesn’t let himself think of his family, of Octagon, of Nicole at the hotel or the hundreds of people who are going to see him at the airport. 

He doesn’t think of Bob, of swimming, of his comeback, of alcoholics anonymous or of probation. He doesn’t think of his lawyers or the judge or about Taylor. 

He doesn’t doubt for a second that Ryan will be waiting for him at the airport. 

When Michael looks up from his iPad after getting the flight confirmation, he sees that he’s staring at Ryan’s ceiling. He has to say Ryan’s name a few times before Ryan picks up the phone and looks at him with bleary eyes. 

“I’m coming.” Michael says and doesn’t think of how stupid it sounds. 

“Good.” Ryan yawns, “That’s like the least dumbass thing you’ve done all day. Getting better already. Get a cab.” 

Michael hasn’t really left the house since coming back from rehab. He had stopped going to Starbucks and to the grocery store. He’d spent a lot of time at the pool and a lot of time on his couch letting his beard grow and watching Netflix. He’d gone to the aftercare program his rehab had arranged for him and sat quietly in the back with sunglasses on and his hood pulled up to hide his face. 

He waits for the cab outside and feels better. 

“Is it cold?” Ryan’s voice comes out of his pocket, “Looks cold.” 

Ryan wears sweaters and hats in 68 degree weather. 

“It’s okay.” Michael explains, “You’re fine.” 

“You okay sleeping with me?” Ryan asks instead of complaining about the weather in Baltimore, “DC’s got the guestroom.” 

“Yeah.” Michael answers quickly. He thinks of his earlier attempt to seduce Ryan, “It’s good.” 

“My battery’s dying.” Ryan admits, “I gotta find my charger, get in your cab and come here. I’ll wait.”

Ryan’s good at big ideas but he’s not usually good with the details. Michael knows that this is half planned and that Ryan’s entire family is probably heading over the next day. 

It’s half planned on his side too. Nicole and him have plans to be seen in public together. He has supper planned with his family and Christmas traditions to upkeep. He wonders if Nicole had planned to stay for Christmas because he hadn’t bothered to check the official plans. He guesses that she probably had. He knows that he’s throwing a wrench in everything. 

“Make it here okay yeah?” Ryan asks, “Like don’t flip out. Call if you do just get on the plane.” 

It’s the kind of dedication Ryan only shows to family and Michael is appreciative. He’s stopped answering but Ryan keeps talking. 

“It’ll be okay once you’re here Mike.” He comforts, “We’ll figure it out.” 

Michael knows Ryan isn’t talking about his brand. He knows that while Ryan is gone to get him at the airport Devon will probably have been charged with getting rid of all the alcohol in the house. He knows he’ll get to Charlotte and the bottle of champagne Ryan usually keeps in the fridge because of MTV Cribs will be gone. 

He knows Ryan will be waiting at the airport.


End file.
